


New and Improved

by MercurialTenacity



Series: It's A Cruel World for Small Things [8]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Crying, Dark Original Percival Graves, Dehumanization, Dreams, Gags, Kissing, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Objectification, Piercings, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tongue Piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 13:07:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14020914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercurialTenacity/pseuds/MercurialTenacity
Summary: Credence lets Graves move him, lets him bind his wrists behind his back and then lays against his chest so that Graves can hold him in place.  He’s shivering, trembling in Graves’ arms and too afraid to beg.  This is going to happen to him.  The only question now is where the piercings will go.Grindelwald grips his chin and pulls his head up, forcing Credence to meet his gaze.“Be a good boy now,” Grindelwald says, a smile still tugging at his lips.  “Hmm?  Can you do that?”





	New and Improved

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags. This series is very dark, and this story is no exception. Hope you enjoy! :)

Credence is warm, bundled up tight against the flurries of snow carrying him down the empty street.  He doesn’t feel the cold, and he wonders vaguely where all the snow came from - he’s never seen this much all at once, piled up to the windows of automobiles and blocking the doors of shops.  Maybe that’s why no one is out; they can’t open their doors. Credence doesn’t mind. He likes the quiet.

He’s never seen this part of the city.  The streets are unfamiliar, branching off at odd angles with empty buildings all around him, but he doesn’t feel lost.  He must have wandered into a whole new part of the city he didn’t know existed before, and the thought thrills him slightly. 

There’s a path through the snow anywhere he wants to go, and he walks and walks through the quiet streets.  Eventually all the buildings are gone and he’s left in a field of open snow, stretching out before him as far as he can see.  He turns slowly and finds it untouched in all directions, a perfect white field. 

He feels content.  Calm.

Snowflakes fall on his cheeks.  He isn’t tired. He isn’t cold. He just is, he just exists, and he lets himself be.

Someone is there with him.  He turns his head, looking out across the white horizon.  Hadn’t he been alone? 

Hands fall on his shoulders.  A palm cups his cheek, turning his head, and Credence follows it.  Maybe he should keep walking. It isn’t safe here after all, no, this isn’t a good place.

He turns to go but the hands catch him, holding him back.  Credence’s heartbeat picks up, his breath coming a little more rapidly.  The snow is falling more heavily now, obscuring everything around him. He tries to take a step but he’s trapped in the snowdrift.  It piled up around him while he wasn’t looking and now the path is gone - his legs are trapped, he tries to move but he’s all tangled up.

Lips press against his own, searing hot against the soft cold snow.  Credence opens his mouth for it, he doesn’t struggle even as he’s pulled back -  _ back to what? _

He opens his eyes and meets Grindelwald’s icy blue gaze.  Grindelwald licks into his mouth, hot, hungry, and impatient.  Credence’s mind is fuzzy even as he kisses back, his body moving on reflex to keep Grindelwald happy.  But he’d been somewhere else, hadn’t he? Somewhere open and clear, somewhere… oh. 

He’d been dreaming.  The details slip away, but he thinks it was nice.  Nicer than here.

“Get up,” Grindelwald orders, releasing him all at once.  He straightens, leaving Credence to disentangle himself from Graves’ sheets and scramble out of bed to follow him.  Grindelwald doesn’t leave him time to dress and he shivers in the morning chill which lingers in the flat, but Credence is used to that.

Graves is already at his desk in the living room, but for once he isn’t working.  Instead he’s bent over something small and glittery laid out on the polished surface.  Credence frowns slightly, but tries not to let his confusion show.

There’s something different today.  He can feel it, and it scares him.

Graves looks up.  “Is he ready?” he asks.  He holds a small jewel in his hand, and Credence’s stomach drops.  No, no - please don’t let that be what he thinks it is. Please.

“Come here,” Grindelwald snaps, and Credence’s body moves automatically to obey even as his mind races.  He should have known it was going to happen, it was a miracle they didn’t do it sooner, but it still makes him queasy - can’t they just fuck him?  He’s good at that now, he can make it good -

Graves rounds the desk and joins them by the couch, pulling Credence down into his lap.  Credence sees the little metal posts mounted on the jewels he holds, and there’s no doubt now.

He lets Graves move him, lets him bind his wrists behind his back and then lays against his chest so that Graves can hold him in place.  He’s shivering, trembling in Graves’ arms and too afraid to beg. This is going to happen to him. The only question now is where the piercings will go.

Grindelwald grips his chin and pulls his head up, forcing Credence to meet his gaze.

“Be a good boy now,” Grindelwald says, a smile still tugging at his lips.  “Hmm? Can you do that?”

Credence swallows.  This is a test, he knows.  This is his chance to prove that he can be good, that he deserves to be treated like a living thing and will still let them have their fun.

“Yes sir,” he whispers, voice shaking.  “I’ll be good.”

“We’ll see.”

Grindelwald kneels on the couch, taking the jewels so that Graves can wrap an arm around Credence’s waist and a hand around his throat, pulling his head back and keeping him from watching what Grindelwald does.  Credence doesn’t know whether he prefers to watch or not, though it doesn’t really matter. He only hopes it’s not his cock they play with, he doesn’t think he could stay still for that - the very thought makes his heart pound, his breath hitching and stuttering, trying so hard not to fight but he’s  _ terrified, _ what are they going to do to him -

Graves’ thumb brushes against his side, stroking back and forth in a smooth, steady motion.  The movement is foreign, and Credence doesn’t understand its purpose. Yet Graves continues, his touch gentle and consistent.  It draws Credence’s attention to that spot where Graves is caressing him - that’s the word for it, Credence realizes,  _ caressing _ \- and eventually, slowly, his breathing shifts to match Graves’ rhythm.

He focuses on the touch even as Grindelwald’s hand falls on his chest, appraising the planes of his body.  He stares up at the ceiling and pretends he’ll be okay. He has to be okay; they haven’t given him any other choice.

He flinches when Grindelwald pinches his right nipple, squeezing it hard between his thumb and forefinger.  Graves holds him in place, helping him be good and take it. Grindelwald works his nipple until it’s pebbled up into a hard little peak, standing out from his chest.  He supposes his nipples will always be hard once Grindelwald’s done with him, but his mind shies away from the thought quickly.

Grindelwald’s hand is replaced with the bite of something hard and cold, and he can’t stifle a yelp of surprise, muscles spasming as he fights to hold himself still.  He can’t see what’s happening - what’s Grindelwald doing to him? It feels like a clamp of some sort, pinching his nipple harder than Grindelwald had with his fingers, hard enough that it feels like it will bruise -

“Hush,” Graves says, voice low in Credence’s ear.  “It’s not your body. Just close your eyes.” His hand still moves against Credence’s side.

Credence obeys, squeezing his eyes shut even as tears start to slip down his cheeks.  Something presses against the side of his nipple and he’s not ready, not yet he just needs a minute he needs to breathe please not yet  _ no  _ -

His nipple is pulled away from his body and stretched tight.  He feels the cold sting of the metal post pressed against it, and the searing burst of pain as Grindelwald drives it through his flesh.  His scream sticks in his throat and chokes him, manifesting only as a pained, wheezing gasp. Tears stream down his cheeks, and even though the initial wave of pain subsides quickly it still lingers, pulsing and throbbing with every heartbeat.  He can feel the metal embedded in his skin, keeping his nipple drawn up tight and hot. It will always be like that now - ready for Grindelwald to twist and tug, making him look more and more like the toy he is.

He’s left dazed and numb from the pain, and he doesn’t register Grindelwald working on his left nipple until it’s already happening and pain is blossoming over that side of his chest too.  He cries freely, sobbing into Graves’ shoulder. He thinks he might be failing the test - he doesn’t know if crying is allowed. But he’s being good, he isn’t fighting or pleading even though he’s scared, so maybe… maybe he can prove how good a toy he is.

Grindelwald mutters a quick healing spell and Credence feels the pain start to ebb, his chest cooling down until all that’s left is the foreign sensation of the metal posts keeping his nipples erect.  

Credence breathes heavily, wishing he were allowed time to adjust to the changes with his body.  Some quiet part of him thinks that perhaps, with time, he wouldn’t find it so bad - is it really worse than anything else they’ve done to him?  As much as he hates the constant awareness of his chest, eventually he might get used to it. He might forget what it’s a symbol of too, and then he wouldn’t mind.

But they don’t leave him alone.  

“Stick out your tongue,” Grindelwald says, and Credence notices the third little jewel between his fingers.

Credence goes pale.

He doesn’t speak, he doesn’t make any sound at all, he just stares in horror at the glittery black jewel.  He can’t even imagine what that would feel like. He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want any of this, he doesn’t want to be here, God, he doesn’t  _ want it - _

“It’s going in one way or another,” Graves says reasonably.  “Don’t make this difficult.”

Credence doesn’t want to cause trouble.  He doesn’t want it to be like last time, he wants to be good and obedient and do as he’s told, but he - he can’t hold still for that.  There’s no way he could do it. And if he bit Grindelwald, even by accident, even just because he panicked - it would be the end of everything.

“I w-want to be good,” he says, voice barely a whimper.  “Help me, please - help me be good, I want to be good, I do, I - I’m sorry, oh please…”

His eyes are puffy and swollen with tears, lashes wet, but even so he sees the glance Graves and Grindelwald exchange.  After a long, breathless moment, Graves twirls his wand and produces a spider gag.

Credence sags with relief.  They’re going to help him. He opens his mouth easily to take the gag, letting Graves fasten it around his head without any fuss.  It’s easier this way; he can bite down on the gag as hard as he wants and it won’t matter, he doesn’t have to worry about what his body does by reflex.

Graves pulls him back again with a hand tight in his hair, keeping his head still.

“Tongue out, pet,” Grindelwald directs, and even though every fiber of his being screams at him not to Credence does it.

Grindelwald uses the tongs again, holding him perfectly in place and ignoring Credence’s helpless whimpers.

Something’s pressed to the underside of his tongue, Grindelwald positions the jewel right in the center, and Credence clenches his fists so hard behind his back that his nails leave angry crescent welts in his palms.

Credence wails when the pain hits, sobbing so much he can’t breathe.

Grindelwald doesn’t hurry, but in a few short moments he has him cleaned up and healed, admiring his own work with a satisfied hum.  Graves undoes the strap at the back of his head and Grindelwald pulls the gag from between his teeth, vanishing it back into the nothing it came from, and Credence cries through it all.  His tongue feels wrong in his mouth, and he has never been so aware of anything as he is of the jewel nestled in it.

“All done,” Graves says gruffly, unknotting the cord from around Credence’s wrists.  His skin is chaffed and sore; Credence could swear he feels the gentle brush of a thumb over the inside of his wrist, he’s too distraught to care.

Grindelwald looks him over once more before rising, tweaking his nipples just to see the full body shudder it elicits.  The sensation makes Credence keen, his back arching and eyes wide, so much more sensitive than he was before. It shocks him, and it makes Grindelwald chuckle.

“Oh, you’ll be fun to play with.”

“He's a mess,” Graves responds, and guilt blooms in Credence’s chest at how awful he must look, nothing like the pleasing toy he should be.

“He'll get over it,” Grindelwald says off handedly.  “He's prettier when he cries anyway. Fuck, I can't wait to feel his tongue...”  His eyes glitter with unconcealed lust and he grabs his chin, an insistent thumb pressing against his lips.  Credence suckles it obediently, lathing it with his tongue. He hates the way it feels, the way the ball of the piercing rolls in his mouth and slides against Grindelwald’s hand, but it makes Grindelwald close his eyes and groan.

Graves clears his throat.  “I believe we had an appointment?”

Grindelwald makes a small noise of displeasure, pulling out of Credence’s mouth with a wet pop and wiping his thumb on Credence’s cheek.

“Must you always be so punctual, Percival?”  He doesn’t seem to expect an answer, turning away with a sigh.  A snap of his fingers summons his coat and he sweeps out of the room, his attention falling from Credence in an instant now that he’s been reminded of something more important.

Graves rises from the couch as well, leaving Credence to burrow down alone, curling in on himself to find comfort and shivering with the chill.

Graves leans over him to take the blanket from the back of the sofa, and Credence just curls in tighter, wishing selfishly that he had a blanket for himself.

He startles to feel the soft fabric settle over him.  Graves drapes it over his naked form, insulating him against the cold and leaving him with at least the illusion of protection even as he reels with confusion.  Maybe… maybe he was good after all. Maybe Graves is pleased with him.

Graves lingers for a moment longer, and then he too is gone.  Credence is left alone to adjust to the changes so carelessly made to his body, and the uncomfortable, foreign throb in his chest and mouth overwhelms thoughts of anything else.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts for this series are always open - find me at [ mercurial-tenacity.tumblr.com ](http://mercurial-tenacity.tumblr.com/)! :)


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